Run, Little Girl, Run
by ink teardrops
Summary: Keep on running, Marietta, because you have nowhere to hide. You're nothing but a traitor to them —-In which the betrayer regrets her actions as she runs for her life and realises that she has nobody to turn to and nowhere to hide.


**A/N: Written for **Cheeky Slytherin Lass' **Dumbledore's Army Competition. I chose #16, and was given the character of Marietta Edgecombe. It had to be set during one of the years that Dumbledore's Army was active, and so I chose the second time. I know that, according to the books, Cho had already left the school by this point and so, it would be likely that Marietta had to, but for the sake of this fic, I pretended that she was still there. I own nothing.**

…

(_run little girl, run. you have nobody. run, little girl, run.)_

The teacher stood at the front of his classroom, a malicious smile etched upon his face and a glint of madness perceivable in his cold, black eyes that appeared to be bottomless pits of lunacy and emptiness. In his fingers, he twirled a piece of wood which appeared so insignificant and weak at first glance but, in fact, was perhaps the most powerful weapon in the world. All it took was a few murmured words and somebody could cease to exist, just like that. A manic laugh escaped his lips and he cleared his throat to attract the attention of the room.

There was no need to because the room was already filled with deafening silence as the roughly twenty assembled pupils of various ages eyed him with fear and anticipation.

"You are all here because you have broken the rules of our school," Amycus Carrow's voice echoed around the gloomy chamber, "and you're all about to find out what happens to those who do."

He let out another manic laugh and a seventh-year girl, who was the oldest of the gathered crowd, shuddered with revulsion and hatred towards the man that had helped turned her school, her home into a gloomy place filled with shadows which whispered secrets of torture, curses and secrets. The man stepped off the podium and began to weave his way across the silent room.

He stopped in front of a young boy who was, at the most, twelve years old and was visibly shaking with fear. The teacher smiled a twisted smile before raising his wand above his head.

"Crucio!" he roared, as he brought the wand swishing through the heavy air.

A burst of green light lit up the room and suddenly, the young boy was lying on the cold stone floor on his back, writhing in agony and screaming plea after plea.

The seventh-year girl could no longer bear to watch or listen and so, she squeezed her eyes tightly shut and covered her ears with her shaking hands, trying to block out the screams of torture emanating from the poor child in front of her. Her hands muffled the sound somewhat, but nothing could get rid of it completely.

Eventually, the screaming stopped and the girl removed her trembling hands and opened her eyes again. The poor boy was sobbing on the floor and Amycus Carrow leant over him, a sickly serene smile planted on his ugly features.

"And now," he said in a delighted tone, "it's your turn. Let me see, who shall I pick?"

His cold eyes swept the chamber, seeking out his next victim from the shuddering masses of pupils lining the walls, staring down in horror at the collapsed first-year lying at their feet, sobbing. His eyes encircled the room twice, before landing on the seventh-year girl who had previously been trying to block out all sounds of torture.

"You," he said, smiling, pointing his wand threateningly at the quivering girl, "Miss Marietta Edgecombe."

Marietta shuddered and gazed at the man in disbelief, who was looking at her expectantly, and gesticulating towards the heap of robes that was the snivelling first year. Marietta felt frozen in fear. She couldn't… she couldn't harm some innocent child who was guilty only of breaking the Carrow's regime. The boy whimpered, as though expecting more pain to hit him at any moment and all Marietta wanted to do was to protect him.

"Come on, Miss Edgecombe, you don't want to end up like dear Daddy, now, do you?" his comment had obviously been intended to rile Marietta up and make her furious and lash out, but it had the opposite effect.

She thought of her Father, a half-blood wizard who had been part of an underground Ministry group that had tried to save Muggleborns. They had been discovered and Marietta's father had been killed in the struggle that ensued. For all Marietta knew, Amycus Carrow may have been the one to kill her father, her brave, kind father who stood up for what he believed in even though he _knew_ the risks and the likely outcome of what he was doing. And that thought spurred her on.

"No." Marietta said in a voice that sounded much braver than she actually felt.

The gloating smile left Amycus' face quickly and he stepped towards Marietta, his wand pointing straight at her.

"What did you say?" he replied, his tone threatening.

"I said, no. I'm not going to stand here and be your puppet and curse innocent children for you. I refuse," she said, her voice suddenly _far more_ confident.

Pupils around the room gasped, gazing at her with a mixture of respect and fear for what might happen. The first-year lying on the floor looked up at Marietta and managed a small, thankful smile, before collapsing back down onto the stone floor.

But Marietta only saw her peers' expressions for a short minute because, soon enough, Amycus had fired a curse at her which missed her as she ducked and, instead, reverberated off the stone wall, causing fragments of rock to be blasted out of place.

Marietta wasted no time and she ran out of the door, dodging another hex shot at her. Suddenly, she was running down the corridors, her footsteps echoing off the walls, fleeing from the wrath of Amycus. Every so often, hexes would hit the walls near her, causing chunks of rock and debris to explode from the ancient walls or blasting holes in canvases and tapestries.

She ran round a corner, casting a shield charm around herself. She continued running even though her lungs felt like they were going to explode and the fact that she had nowhere to run _to._

That thought hit her with such alarming strength, she almost stopped. Where could she go? She had nowhere.

Tears began to course down her cheeks and she thought about Neville, Seamus, Ernie, Colin and all those other DA members who had got in far too deep and had disappeared, right under the Carrow's noses. The DA who had rebelled against the regime and had escaped into the Room of Requirement, it would be the perfect place to disappear.

But they wouldn't accept her. They would turn her away. She had betrayed them and they all hated her because of it. They were her last hope and because of her foolish actions, she had destroyed that window of opportunity. When she had stared into mirrors, observing the pimples that covered her forehead, she had somewhat regretted her actions but never had she regretted them as much as she did now. She had effectively destroyed her last chance of safety.

Finally, she was paying for being a traitor.

All she had was the strength of her legs; all she could do was run. She had nowhere to hide.

The footsteps behind here neared closer and closer. The tears continued rolling down her cheeks, and she stared up at the castle roof.

"_I'm sorry," _she mouthed to the heavens before a curse hit her square on the back, causing her to crumple to the ground and suddenly, everything went black.


End file.
